


Not a Level Seven

by probably_somewhere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probably_somewhere/pseuds/probably_somewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mistake that got one of his team members hurt, the full force of his responsibilities as a paladin hit Lance--and he's determined not to lose again. That, or he feels like he needs to punish himself for what happened. Keith finds him in the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Level Seven

Lance settled into a fighting stance. “Level seven,” he barked at the room, and moments later he heard the click and slide of the ceiling spitting out a training gladiator. It looked just the same as levels two and three had, but even from the way it stood, Lance could tell how different the settings were.

He lunged at it. The bayard-gun thrummed in his hand as he held down the trigger--only for the shots to be blocked by a lightning fast arm. It was unfazed as it leapt forward. A metal leg slammed into Lance’s knee, too fast to evade, and he fell hard. The padding on his suit hardly softened the impact. He ignored the pain and scrambled back to his feet.

The droid activated blades on both of his arms and came at him. It was relentless, and Lance cried out with the effort of keeping it at bay. Blow after blow connected to his arms, his chest, his helmet. But he refused to back away, even at a range too close for his bayard, and tried to pummel the robot with his fists instead. He felt bruises forming all over his body. His limbs dragged through the air and with every heaving breath he grew more and more desperate. Zarcon wasn’t a level _seven_. He would eat level seven for breakfast and if Lance couldn’t beat that then he would fail them all and they would do worse than get hurt next time.

His team would _die_.

Now he yelled with each impact. Of his gloves against the metal or of the blades against his suit, it didn’t matter. The hits were so fast that they all blurred into one long sound that tore at his throat. He would lose. He was losing.

He _lost_.

He didn’t even have enough energy left to signal an end to the training sequence. Besides, he deserved a good beating from the gladiator droid after what he let happen to Shiro. It would stop after thirty tics of no response anyway.

The robot fell limply against him with the hiss of the power going out of it. If he was yelling, he couldn’t hear it anymore because his ears were ringing so loudly. He didn’t move, just felt the blood pulsing through his veins to all of his new bruises and the pressure of the droid against him.

“Lance.”

The gladiator was lifted away from him.

“ _Lance_.”

Hands on him, hands that at first he thought were trying to hurt him but only hands that held onto his until he stopped fighting. One of them freed itself from his grasp long enough to lift the helmet from his face and suddenly it was bright behind his eyelids and his lungs weren't screaming anymore, not for air and not for sound. His throat ached. His eyes burned.

“Lance, hey, are you hurt? What the _hell_ level did you have that on?”

He couldn't speak. Couldn't even moan. He just turned toward the voice and let his head fall onto the shoulder there. Muscles tightened underneath fabric. It was rough on his face--jacket fabric. “You need to get to a healing pod.”

An arm reached around his waist and pulled him away from the ground, but Lance shook his head. “No,” he croaked. The arm let him back down but didn’t let go. Lance was glad for that.

“Okay. Okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Keith's jacket absorbed his tears. “No,” he said again. “I can’t...”

“Can’t what?” The other paladin stroked his arm awkwardly. Keith had never been good with people, and in the back of his mind Lance guessed that it was even worse with him. They hadn’t exactly been the best of friends, and now here he was, literally crying on his shoulder.

“Lose.”

Keith let out a rush of air. “It’s just a droid, Lance, and you put it on too high of a level. Of course you were going to--”

“Lose _you_ ,” Lance hissed. The tears poured freely from his eyes now, like a valve had been turned when he finally admitted his fear. “I’m not good enough to protect _any_ of you. I have to get better, because I can’t--I can’t watch anyone get hurt again. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What has gotten into you?” Keith asked. “Is this about Shiro? Lance, there was nothing you could have done, and he’s going to make it. Just a few days in the healing pod and it will be like nothing ever happened.”

Lance took his head off Keith’s shoulder and pulled his gloves off. Wiped his eyes with the backs of sweaty hands and avoided eye contact. “That’s just _it_ , though. I couldn’t do anything and that’s what almost got him killed. What if next time no one comes in to save us? I can’t let that happen, I can’t let it…” He sniffed, feeling stupid and embarrassed and like a failure, always like a failure. He looked down at his hands, shaking and already mottled with bruises.

“I trust you with my life, Lance. And that’s valuable property, so I don’t give that responsibility lightly.” Keith put a hand on his knee, and even the light touch made Lance wince. That droid had hit him pretty hard, and now that his adrenaline was wearing out he couldn’t ignore the pain anymore. “And I’m not an idiot, either, so you had better trust me on this one. You’re worth it. And you really need to get to a healing pod--your knee is swelling up fast.”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” begged Lance.

“Okay. We’ll go when you’re ready.” Keith left his side long enough to push the droid into the return chute. Then he sat down next to Lance again, leaning against the wall in his usual careful way. “We don’t just have each other’s backs in combat, you know. If there’s ever anything you need help with--training, diplomacy, cooking, or just talking to someone, whatever. We’re all here to make each other better. It’s the only way we’ll make it through this.”

“Yeah.” Lance sniffed one final time, and though he felt only marginally better it would be enough. “But if you tell anyone about this I will make you regret that whole thing about trusting me with your life.”

Keith sighed. “And there’s the Lance we know and love. Come on, I’ll help you to the sick bay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @probably-somewhere for more Voltron


End file.
